


He saved my life

by Shadysproof



Category: Eminem (Musician)
Genre: Boss/Employee Relationship, Drug Use, Eminem - Freeform, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Not Beta Read, dr. dre - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-02-18 17:23:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21581260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadysproof/pseuds/Shadysproof
Summary: Dre’s interest in Marshall Mathers strays much further than just his rapping ability. He wasn’t the person he signed up for; he was better.
Relationships: Dr. Dre/Eminem
Comments: 64
Kudos: 69





	1. Kid

**Author's Note:**

> I haven’t posted a story in a while now and I know a few have been asking. I finally felt a burst of inspiration and wrote up this :)
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own or know Eminem, Dr. Dre or any of the characters in this text. This is a fictional story.

Marshall paced the room. One foot in front of the other, shoulders stiff and breath withheld. His fingers curled into soft fists only to twitch apart again. This went on relentlessly until a low sounding voice from behind knocked him from his trance. “You. Kid. What are you here for?”

Marshall spun coming face to face with a longtime hero of his, his lips parting as a tightness built up in his chest. 

The man stood there searching Marshall’s features questionably, the slight eyebrow raise he held sounding his confusion, “Are you deaf? I asked what your doing here.”

“Dr-“ Marshall attempted to clear the softness of his voice, putting on a slightly deeper tone. “Dr Dre. You actually invited me,” a nervous laugh escaped him. “It’s Eminem. We spoke on the phone man.” 

Dre’s eyes trailed over him slowly and Marshall didn’t have to ask to know what he was thinking. He’s white. Dre did a good job of hiding his surprise though. His eyes flickered back to Marshall’s face a small smile gracing his features, “Eminem huh? You holding up alright?” His eyes drifted over his features once more, a questionable look hidden behind them. “Those Rhymes ain’t really match that puppy shyness you got going on.” 

The curl of his lips edged amusement by the last few words. “Straighten up and meet me in there in five.” 

Dre turned to take one last look at the kid before he pushed the door to enter his office. He noticed Marshall’s composure was now flipped, a slight glare following his line of vision. Determination; the kid sure had it. 

It might be a little weird for him to work with a white boy with blue.. baby blue eyes Dre decided. But then, It’s a little weird for Eminem as he calls himself to be rapping at all. Yet he is. 

This might just work. 

A week passed of Dre working closely with Marshall. He soon began to notice more and more about Marshall’s appearance. Except, he wasn’t comparing it to people he worked with anymore. His eyes just seemed to find interest in watching the small pout that would build on his lips when he flunked a line or scribbled out a verse. Or the soft crinkle of his nose when Dre played a beat he just wasn’t feeling. The light flicker of eyelashes against his cheeks when he struggled almost childishly to stay awake after an all nighter. 

And then there was his hair, it was blond now. Dre thought it was soft looking; alluring even. He nearly ran his fingers through it the other morning when he found Marshall slumped against the soundboard. His hand couldn’t of recoiled faster as the blond in question started to stir. 

“Kid.” Marshall turned his eyebrows drawing in, “I’m not a kid. And dawg, come on don’t you know my name by now.” His tone bordered a whine.

Dre chuckles, “You know I do, don’t get all worked up about it. It ain’t my fault your so damn childish all the time.” 

Marshall’s eyes flashed as if prepared for a challenge, “Childish aye?” He shook his head, “How so?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know. I’m sure you’ve been called it before.” Dre raised an eyebrow finding this whole ideal humorous. This guy has to know how immature he is. “Why do you think we’re predicting your target audience to be teenagers? They gotta relate to you somehow.”

With a roll of his eyes Marshall let a pout grace his features, “Well maybe your predictions wrong. I mean you like it don’t you?” Marshall’s mind suddenly clicked the pout being replaced with a mischievous curve of his lips, “I mean what are you 40?”

Dres eyes narrowed he couldn’t help but let it get to him, “35,” he muttered.

When Marshall shot him a grin Dre wanted nothing more but to wipe that smug look of his face. With a few steps closer he was reminded just how much taller he was to Marshall. “And you just proved that you are a kid. Nobody but a kid would think my age was old.” 

Marshall tilted his head, “Your words not mine. Never said you was old.” 

Damn. Dre really, really wanted to wipe that smirk off him now. His hand rested on Marshall’s shoulder before he could process it moving. “You implied it smartass,” came a low growl.

Marshall tensed underneath his hand the second it landed, his smirk fading and eyes flickering to the warmth now on his shoulder. 

Dre lifted his hand and grazed over Marshall’s posture carefully. “You should relax.”

The second the words were spoken Dre took his leave. 

Marshall had opened his mouth to defend himself only for it to close again. What could he say anyway? Truthfully, he did have a reason for tensing up. But he doesn’t need to tell him. He had enough hands on him for this lifetime. But Dre wasn’t a bully and he wasn’t a 14 year old scrawny boy anymore. 

He’s trying to be a rapper; he needs to snap out of his traumatic past bringing forth this insecurity and use it as strength.

The next time he held dres hand rested against his back was outside the conference room; a meeting regarding his next album. “I get it.” Dre let out a brief sigh, with a comforting squeeze to his shoulder. “Nobody likes to be told what to do. Told to be censored. Told it’s not good enough, that it’s not their image of what you should be doing.” 

Marshall jerked away from the touch turning to look at Dre the same passion gleaming across his iris’, “you don’t get it.” 

He inhaled, held the breath and slowly let it out. “You don’t get it. I can’t make another ‘my name is’. I’m not doing their fake bullshit, I’m not fake. You gotta grow as an artist, you can’t just do the same shit over and over. I won’t do it.” 

Dre followed his step both hands how accompanying his shoulders, eyes down to Marshall’s level. “I’m not asking you to.” He spoke plain and simple, no judgement hindering his words. “I’m asking you to calm down and use that anger later when you need it. Use it in your music. Nobody listens to what these guys say, you got to remember that they need you more than you need them.” 

Marshall stared back at him taking his words in. His mind relaxing while his body stayed stiff. He stared to realise a while ago that nobody make him as nervous as Dre did. -It’s probably a role model thing. “Thanks. I guess I shouldn’t tore up the papers back there.. I guess I’m just- I don’t know. You’re right as usual.” 

Dre could see the sad look, he could feel the slump of shoulders. “I’m here to help. All it takes is experience aight.” 

Marshall nods a sly smile on his face, “Could you handle it in there...while I go back to the studio and handle this feeling?” 

“Your the worst. Fine go,” Dre chuckles despite not wanting to deal with an hour of them bitching how his signee can’t be this disrespectful. 

Marshall smiles pursing a fast movement to lean into hug Dre, but paused last second awkwardly shifting away from him instead. “I’m gonna go. Thanks again Dre.” 

“I wouldn’t of minded the hug.” 

Marshall’s lips parted then shut, seeing the teasing smirk Dre held. He was fucking with him. “Yeah maybe next time if your lucky,” he even threw in a wink.


	2. Questions

“How’s your relationship with Dr. Dre?” 

The question hung in the air and Marshall had to take a second to answer. “With Dre? Oh man you know he’s been a idol of mine since I was a teen you know. But it’s gone past that, we’re at a point where I can actually call him a friend you know.” A small smile was urging to break out. He let it, his eyes drifting behind the glass barrier between him and Dre.

Dre slightly raised his eyebrow, searching the blond’s features and seeing the truth behind his words. Still something felt off to Dre. Almost like the words had hit the wrong nerve. He shouldn’t feel like this their wasn’t anything wrong with what the kid said. 

Well apart from the fact Dre thought of Marshall as much more than just a friend.

When Marshall wasn’t met with the approval he had expected his head hung a little for the remainder of the interview. He leaned onto one hand his spirits dampened. Dre had trained him somewhat on what to and what not to say. He was still able to let his personality shine through but he also has to consider his reputation. He thought maybe Dre considered his wording to be too joyful..or maybe he’s worried about his own status in terms of being respected as a mentor not a peer.

Nothing hurt Marshall more than to disappoint the man who literally saved his life. 

Marshall got up, stretched lightly and mumbled a goodbye as he headed into the next room. Coming face to face with Dre he found himself staring. 

Dre nods, “That’s gotta go for some good promotion man, easy on the cursing on air though yeah?” 

Marshall sighed lightly, “Yeah, sure thing.”  
He hated this act Dre put up when they were in the company of those outside their friendship circle. It was very authoritative and not the playful and downright comforting Dre he knew. 

Just yesterday he had spent the night crashed on Dres couch, he felt the hand running through his hair and found himself leaning into it. He would take any comfort after a rigorous fight with Kim over Hailie’s whereabouts. He had pretended to be asleep as Dres hand wondered down his neck to his shoulder only to pause and retreat. It sent shivers up his spine when it happened, now it just made him miss the moment. 

Dre drove them back to the studio. It was a quiet day, they decided against security since the station was quite close to the studio; just a few minutes up the road. Marshall could feel eyes flickering on him and back to the wheel again. It was enough to make Marshall twist his body to face him, maybe his mind was on the question to. Why was it such a simple question was driving him crazy. 

“What else could I have said Dre? You look pretty pissed over it.” 

“I’m not pissed.” 

“So you know what I’m talking about then,” Marshall had deliberately left out the context of his question wanting to know if Dre was just as caught up as him. 

Dre pulled into the studio putting the car in park. He moved to get out when a hand landed on his lower arm almost grasping. Dres gaze followed the hand then raised to his protégés face. “Marshall what do you want?” 

Marshall’s eyes shifted in their search of seeing what dre was feeling. “You weren’t happy with how I addressed us. Don’t lie to me, just tell me what I did wrong.” Saying these words aloud he felt like a child begging for forgiveness. He still can’t understand how a single question created so much drama in his mind. 

Dre shook his head, “I don’t know what your on about kid. Everything you did was fine. But you know what won’t be fine? You slacking off right now, let’s get to work you still don’t have a single for the album.” 

Marshall knew there was no point trying to talk to Dre when he was in his ‘I’m the boss here do as I say’ moods. Instead of prying further, Marshall let a smirk grace his features, “Actually I got the perfect single for those assholes.” 

He had just laid the track for Dre, watching as his amused smile broadened across his face. Dre shook his head as if to silently voice this song would be a bitch to explain to the rest of the label; especially considering it’s about them. 

“So...what do you think?” Marshall had a shy but giddy smile plastered on his face. He loved giving it back to people, as petty as it could be.

Dre tilted his head a little to the side as his chair spun to the phone beside him. He held a button down to send a message through to the receptionist “Hello Miss, contact the marketing team. We’ve got our single.” 

When Dre turned back at Marshall he barely had time to blink before arms were thrown around his shoulders. It was an awkward position as Dre was seated but Marshall managed to lean into Dre, his head rested on his shoulder and one knee raised to rest on the gap between his thighs. 

Dres hands found their way to Marshall’s lower back, the most natural place considering their position. The feeling that came with holding him though...he didn’t know what to think of that.

“You said you wouldn’t mind right?” His voice came out small and teasing. Dre couldn’t tell if he was whispering cause he felt as strange as he did, or just because he was too close to his ear to speak loudly. 

“Right. Kid, right.” Don’t mind at all.

When Marshall pulled away and rubbed down his arm; a nervous look to his posture Dre found himself shooting him a smile. “Wanna give me a kiss next time too?” 

Just like that Marshall tensed up; it didn’t stop the smirk that soon adorned his face however. He watched Marshall’s bright blue iris’ shift down to his lips. Just a glance before they returned to meet his gaze. “You want me to kiss you now too? Sorry Dre, your the mentor. Gotta teach me first.” 

Dre only shook his head returning to the mixing board and occupying himself with Marshall’s ‘The way I am’ track. He would rather not think about the way those pink lips would taste.


	3. Marshall’s birthday (part 1)

The time of the year Marshall would celebrate his birthday finally rolled around. He was turning 27, although the whole world thought he was a few years younger. 

He was currently at a club. Bought out for the night by none other than Deshaun his right-hand man. The club consisted mostly of his friends, random groupies and associates. It was well decorated, his name plastered across the walls with party music blaring throughout the room. This was all done for him, so why did he feel so forgotten.

Dre wasn’t here. 

Course he wasn’t, that guy worked way too hard. But was it too much to ask that he showed up to his birthday. Dre could go fuck himself for all he could care. 

He didn’t mean that, he never did. He was way too overly sensitive when the topic of Dre entered his mind. What was that? 

Marshall sighed stepping outside for a moment finally breathing a fresh waft of air outside of the smoke filled and slightly suffocating room. People assumed he loved attention, and hey, maybe he did. But it had to be from the right people, and he definitely wasn’t feeling those girls tonight. 

His feet trailed him further from the club and closer to the nearby car park, he really shouldn’t ditch but he needed a break. Fucking Dre ruining his night. 

He reached into his pants pocket grabbing and lighting the joint some random guy he’s pretty sure he’s never met had given him earlier. 

Moments of sitting there just smoking passed and Marshall wasn’t really feeling the effects of the drug kicking in. He felt more lightheaded that’s for sure and definitely had less awareness of his surroundings; although that could just be the alcohol. But, he didn’t feel any of the..sadness caused by Dre subsiding at all. 

One minute he lifted his hand to take a drag the next it was swiftly snatched from his fingertips. “You don’t need that kid, you need to get back inside and enjoy the party.” 

When Marshall just silently met his gaze at him his lips slightly parted, Dre continued. “What are doing all alone anyway?”

Marshall eyes flickered in annoyance to the concrete floor beneath him, “Some dick didn’t show tonight.”

Hearing a low sigh to the right of him he looked back up. “I was gonna show Slim. I’m here now aren’t I?” 

“Yeah now. What’s so important that you-“ Marshall paused abruptly he sounds like he’s doing clingy girlfriend shit. Are him and Dre even close enough on the friendship level for him to be upset like this. He really could never tell with Dre, hid his feelings tight. Himself on the other hand was horrible at it. He felt like all he ever did was flip or scream or cry at or for someone. 

Dre shifted beside him and leaned against the wall on his left shoulder. An amused smile formed on his lips and Marshall found himself breaking under it. “Your really something, you know that?” Dre’s voice was smooth and calming.

Marshall’s eyes drifted over Dre’s form, taking him in completely. He felt the flutter of his heartbeat causing small tremors to run through his body, “Something? You think that’s an apology.”

Only when his eyes racked back up to Dres face did he see the way his eyebrows were slightly drawn in. 

Dre’s expression would remain that way, his smile fading as he did his own once over of Marshall. As if creating an experiment Dres arm lifted, his hand planting just beside the blond’s throat. A careful stroke of his thumb against Marshall’s skin resulted in a light shiver from said person. 

Keeping his hand there he continued to stare at Marshall. He looked uncomfortable and relaxed at the same time. He felt a movement beneath his hand and realised the kid was actually leaning into his touch. 

It was innocent enough. Anyone walked out it could seem quite friendly. But friendly wasn’t the word either of them would use; at least in their minds.

He eventually lifted his hand from Marshall’s shoulder only to place it against the wall beside his head. Clique as it was, it was all worth it to see the widening of Marshall’s eyes. Dre had seen this guy look outright viscous before, but in this moment all he could think about was how..cute he could be. 

He leaned in till he could literally feel the heat of Marshall’s body radiating off him. Lips brushed against the soft skin of Marshall’s cheek, dangerously close to his lips. 

A shout asking if anyone had seen the birthday boy sounded through the air from the entrance of the club. It lead to the careful shift apart, relief flooding them when they realised the man shouting had not yet spotted them. 

Squinting slightly Marshall could make out it was swift who interrupted. He looks at Dre for a moment a soft bite of his bottom lip following. 

Dre eyes looked almost glazed over, in obvious deep thought. He noticed the look and nodded towards the door, “I’ll be in soon, go.” 

As Marshall left Dre felt more and more regret etching it’s way into his mind. This was really getting out of hand. Marshall had to know by now, not that, that was the issue. He seemed to respond in a way that only made Dre want him all the much more. 

Unless he really was scared and can’t deny the person he puts in such a high light. If that’s the case; Dre really just feels like a asshole who needs to control his needs better.

The kid needs to see he’s nothing special and he could of made it in life without him. Until then he’ll feel guilty, like he’s using him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This section Ive separated into two parts because there is a word limit I want each chapter to be around. Thank you to those enjoying the fic so far ♥️


	4. Marshall’s birthday part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas! I finally updated, hope you enjoy this little surprise

For the most part, the remainder of the night passed in a haze. Marshall was too lost in his own thoughts to pay much attention to whatever dumb shit his crew would drag him into to. 

A hand slapping his back broke his thoughts momentarily, “Doody your really out of it tonight.” Deshaun’s lips formed into a pout, “Have some fun for me, aight?” 

Marshall rolls his eyes at his longtime childhood friend but nevertheless draped his arm around his shoulders. “I’m having fun man. Promise you,” he slipped a smirk on. Wouldn’t want to hurt Proofs feelings, after all this was probably a bitch to plan. Stocking up on security was an absolute must these days. He imagined Proof calling nearby stores and bars to subsequently try and block out the area. 

He knew how Marshall hated the pressures of fame. 

Deshaun shook his head nudging Marshall in a friendly matter, “Aight if you say so.” He passed Marshall the spare drink he had been holding and tilted his head over to a crowded area. Despite the surrounded space, Marshall could pin point Dre’s form standing there immediately.

“I ain’t wanna force you into conversation if you ain’t feeling it. But Dre mentioned something about..your present,” Proof looked confused for a second trying to rack his brain for the proper wording. He missed the catch in Marshall’s breath, Eventually just shrugging, “Wants to see you after the party.” 

A hand running through his hair Marshall visibly bit his lip, unable to hide the emotions flooding over him. He could still feel the soft brush of lips against his cheek. The urge to tilt his head towards the offending warmth had been hammering through his head. But, was that what Dre even wanted? Something so obvious still seemed so bizarre considering who he was talking about.

Maybe he was overreacting. But he really wasn’t, this was Dre. His boss. His friend. A- guy. 

A blush flushed onto his cheeks as he saw DeShauns cocked head. An eyebrow raised in clear confusion. Inching his face a fraction closer he squinted his eyes, “Are you blushing?” 

Marshall shook his head raising his hand in rejection before shifting back and striding away from Deshaun’s presence. He would figure out what was going in a matter of seconds if he had stayed close by. At least now he’ll have to at least think about it. Fuck-Why was he so transparent. 

He remembered a time he barely even knew his friend. Known him for known him for maybe a week tops. Apparently that’s all it took for Deshaun to decipher his interest in the brunette haired girl sitting adjacent to them. He had just outright pointed her out; speaking loud and clearly, “Marshall you like her, right?” ‘Mr wingman’ had even held a smooth smile across his face as if he truely believed this would help Marshall get a date. 

Long story short. Marshall didn’t end up dating her. Nevertheless, what Deshaun can do is read him like no other. 

He could feel his gaze following him even as he walked away. He knew a conversation would follow eventually, but hopefully Proof would let him enjoy his birthday night. 

The black numbers on his phone told him it was almost three in the morning. He had checked the moment he noticed people staring to leave. To say he was awaiting impatiently for what Dre had to say was an understatement. He couldn’t bring himself to think of anything else but that.

“Later Marsh, happy birthday,” a slightly exhausted voice came from his left. 

He smiled at Kon artist moving into a well recited side hug. “Thanks for comin’ I’ll catch you in the studio,” he waved lazily and joined the few people left at the party as they excited the door. 

Now in the streets of Detroit, Marshall pulled himself back to lean unnoticed against the outer wall of the club. He looked in the direction of Dre who sure enough made his way over the moment they locked eyes. 

Habit of friendly teasing caused a smug smile to form on his lips as Dre neared closer, “Not only did you make it to the party eventually. But your trying to make it all better with a gift.” 

Apparently Dre wasn’t in the mood for jokes, his face as serious as ever. “It’s just a card kid. Sorry,” he spoke surprisingly calmly considering the content’s of his letter.

Marshall watched with curiosity and mild surprise as Dre reached into his jacket fishing out a red enveloped card. He passed it over to Marshall then proceeded to shove his hands back in his pockets and keep them there shrugging, “That’s it. I should let you go, Happy birthday Em.” 

As he turned to walk away Marshall spoke his name hurriedly, “Dre- you ain’t have to leave yet I mean sure I’m a little tired..but why ain’t you just stay while I open the card?”   
It was polite to read birthday cards or open presents in the presence of the giver wasn’t it? They normally wanted to see how he would react to their gift of choice. 

A low sigh escaped Dres lips but he joined Marshall in a lean against the wall, his body positioned on the side so he could stay watching the Blond, “Fine go ahead. Open it,” his response was lazy yet spoken in a lower tone. 

Marshalls hands carefully unfolded the letter, his fingers working as finely as they did working a pen. Maybe he didn’t want to rip it, or maybe he was just delaying reading it. Either way he felt a twist in his stomach that told him there was something important in the so called birthday card.

His eyes flickered up to meet Dre’s momentarily before returning his gaze to the now pulled out card. 

Marshall’s eyes scanned over the fine ink and swore his heart actually jumped inside of him. ‘Slim, Happy birthday kid. Since day one I questioned why I was so drawn to you and it’s happened so often I’ve come to accept it. I’m clearly interested, I probably won’t ever say it in words. Not cause I’m scared, but cause I’m just not all that sensitive. You are sensitive, that’s something I do know. Ain’t a bad thing, it’s one of the things even attracting me to you and it’s the reason I’m writing this. I don’t know what I want from telling you this, maybe just an explanation, you deserve to know I guess. - Andre’.

When Marshall looked back up his lips parted and cheeks flushed, Dre knew he had read it and could add a final thought, “Before you say anything. I wrote this before what happened earlier. But what did happen made me think and I need you to know-“ Dre paused staring intently into almost sparking blue eyes, “I need you to know, you’ve helped me just as much as I’ve helped you. You don’t owe me shit okay. I didn’t save your life, you did. When you got out there trying to make it, you saved it.” 

With Marshall’s heart pumping faster and head thumping, completely overwhelmed by his emotions he managed to utter fast words, “That’s not why I let you.” He caught some more sense and breathed. “I didn’t stop you before cause I didn’t want to.”


	5. Regrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been a while since I updated, but I finally got around to it :).
> 
> Thank you for all the lovely comments so far!

A brief moment of complete silence passed, neither saying another word. Nothing but held eye contact to remind each other they were still in conversation. They stayed like this for an uncomfortable period of time as they listened for the remaining cars to leave the establishment. 

A sound similar to a bang rang through the air, leading to a jolt of Marshall’s body taken by complete surprise. A swift glance to the smoking light once bright and shining near the entrance of the club told him their had just been a power outage. This is what he gets for letting Proof choose the club. It wasn’t the best neighbourhood. 

Marshall could barely see his own hands at this point as he reached for his cell phone. He barely skimmed his fingers against the cotton of his pants before he was halted. Rough hands were yanking his jacket- hesitating; then pulling him flush against their body. One of those same hands slipping just barely under his shirt to rest on his waist. 

His eyes widened as they flashed up to Dres’, the thump of his heart becoming more prominent when he felt a soft squeeze on his hip. Marshall’s eyes adjusted gradually to the lack of light allowing him to make out the look of indecisiveness Dres expression echoed.

Marshall could make out the few whispered words Dre was muttering as his free hand landed on Marshall’s neck pulling him closer. “So wrong..your fucking me up.” 

The second his lips brushed against the taller mans’ he couldn’t help but let out a hitch of breath. Then Dres lips were on his, feeling as though they were drinking him in before he even had a moment to react. 

The fingers on the back of his head clutched together into a fist as he gripped what little hair Marshall had, lips moving desperately. Dre knew he might not get this chance again and he didn’t- couldn’t waste it.

Dre felt the shove on his shoulder from said blond he was holding, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. He instead moved lower kissing down a paler throat. 

Marshall shivered from the sheer intensity, managing to catch his breath as Dre released his lips. His eyes fluttered closed as teeth began nipping at the soft skin above his collarbone.

A moan escaped him as Dre sucked more harshly against the skin, teeth grazing the spot soon after. He was going to have to make up some type of excuse to his friends afterward about the mark he was in no doubt receiving. 

This was better than Dre had even imagined, Marshall was intoxicating. As he pulled back his attention was brought back to faintly swollen pink lips. God he was perfect. Eyes raising Dre caught lust stricken blue eyes. He sent him a short but teasing smirk before moving back in to press his lips against his protege once again. 

Marshall responded a lot more aggressively the second time around, pushing against Dre once more, yet never breaking the kiss. This time it wasn’t for a breath of air but to flip the situation. He shouldn’t be the one pressed up against a wall. 

Apparently his boss was having none of that as hands wrapped themselves around his smaller wrists, pinning them to either sides of his head. 

Marshall’s body squirmed fighting for control and a low growl escaped Dres’ throat. The blond’s breath hitched as his body stilled, a chill running up his spine. Maybe he could give in this once.

Sudden light shocked their lips apart as the club lit up. It was a fainter orange glow; clearly the emergency light. 

Dre stepped back moving his hand from Marshall’s wrist slowly to his cheek. His thumb swiping across gently. “Happy birthday kid. I should go.” He pulled back taking steps away from Marshall.

Marshall watched, his limbs not quite working the way he wanted them to. He wanted to stop him; He wanted him to stay.

Dre called a cab sitting back against the slightly tattered seats. His mind was elsewhere as he watched the many buildings pass. Today was too much. It was too fucking much. He can’t be doing this with Marshall, this wasn’t going to end well. 

They’re rappers. How is this ever going to down well. He already had rumours about his sexuality he did not need to prove anybody right.

In that moment back there he really hadn’t cared. Those sweet words left Marshall’s lips and he couldn’t help himself. That and it was dark. The darkness felt a lot safer; less exposing. 

Paying the driver a generous amount he hopped out treading towards his house. No matter how much he tossed and turned in his king sized bed, flashes of how warm the guy had been kept coming back to him. How great his body had felt against his. God he was fucked. 

The ringtone blaring from his cell knocked him out of it for just a moment. Picking it up lazily he glanced down at the letters. Slim. He’s not gonna answer, he knows he’s calling just to freak out on him. Better they both just forget anything happened. 

**9 miscalls received Sunday 4:27am**

_Forget anything happened._


	6. Working it out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being so inactive! But I’m finally here with an new update :)
> 
> Thank you to those enjoying the story, you might have to read the previous for a refresher since it’s been a while.

Dre wasn’t sure what to think of what happened. Marshall had seemingly given up on calling him, yet he obviously wasn’t over what happened. He hasn’t shown up for three days now. Three. Knowing how dedicated Marshall is to his music, this was getting strange. 

Dre himself was a busy person so he didn’t always have time to sit down in Detroit with his protege and work through things. Marshall had never been one to waste his time but then again they had never had something romantic twist into their little sessions either. 

It was going on day four by the time Dre decided he had had enough. Dialling Marshall’s number was met with hesitancy, but had to be done.. so he forced his thumb down on the button, subconsciously holding a breath. 

When Dre was met with silence he found himself struggling to be the first one to break the ice. “Marshall?” 

Dre still didn’t hear and reply and began to wonder if the blond was even there. “Hello? Slim you good?” 

He was met with a small sigh in response, “So now you’ll call me. Four days of nothing and now your worried. Whatever.” A delayed pause followed before he spoke again, “what do you want?”

Dre swore he could hear Marshall roll his eyes and his own annoyance got the best of him. “You done sulking? Get in the studio now.”

Dre heard a dial tone and knew he had fucked up. This isn’t how you talk to a friend, whether something happened between you or not. 

So Dre redialed the number, “Listen Marshall you cant act lik-“ Dre groans, motherfucker hung up on me again.

Third times the charm, he hit speed dial. “..I’m sorry.” 

A few silent seconds passed before Marshall sighed, “better be.” He waited hearing another pause, “I’ll come in, later.” 

Dre felt his nerves building up as he watched the clock pass wondering just how long it would take Marshall to get here. It wasn’t like him to care, but this kid had been throwing his emotions all over the place since day one. Dre was starting to think he had some type of device on him, designed purely to fuck him up. 

When the studio door made that familiar click, Dre glanced over to meet duller blue eyes than he was used to. Redness rimming the edges. Fuck. Had the kid been crying.

With a guilty bite to his bottom lip Dre nodded at Marshall, “hey.”

Marshall walked over silently falling back into his chair with a heavy sigh. “Let’s just skip the chat and do this.” Over the passing week Marshall had decided it wasn’t worth even trying, Dre would never really be okay with this.

Dres eyes lingered on Marshall a little longer taking him in. The slouch showed him clear enough Marshall was upset, he wasn’t trying to hide that one bit. Words started to slip out before he could stop them, “Look Marshall.. what happened your going to have to get over it.” He was never the best at comforting others. 

A dangerous flash crossed Marshall’s eyes as he raised them to Dres level. “Get over it?” He gritted out. “You want me to get over it?” Marshall took in a breath pinching the bridge of his nose trying to calm himself. “Fine. Not like you make it hard.” 

An uncomfortable twist settled in Dre’s stomach, “Don’t make it hard? What’s that supposed to mean.” 

“It means you suck at this. Whatever it was we did or had- whatever. You suck at at it.” 

Dres eyes narrowed, “I don’t. I just don’t want to continue it.” 

Marshall stares at him his expression somewhere in between amusement and disbelief. He laughs airily, “Funny how you pretend not to care about me liking you.. but you do.” 

A long stare was met from Marshall’s response until Dre finally urged himself to snap out of it. “You were right before. We shouldn’t talk about it, let’s just work.” 

Marshall scoffs taunting, “what too real for you?” He wasn’t surprised at all when Dre sent him his own sharp glare. 

Although they did end up getting through the process of mixing and cutting one of Marshall’s pre-made songs, the tension was undeniable in the air through the entirety of the time. It was slowly driving Dre crazy just by the suffocation of it. 

He could feel Marshall’s pent up frustration from as if he was still arguing with him at this moment. And he just couldn’t take it any longer. “Tell me what the fuck you want me to do about this. You can’t get over it fine, that’s fair. But there has to be some type of way you’ll get- I don’t know closure?” Dre stumbled thinking of what his exes had often needed from him. 

Wrong answer. Those blue eyes were now piercing through him. “I’m not a fucking girl, I don’t need your shitty closure.” 

Now Marshall wasn’t looking at him at all, his eyes were downcast and Dre swears he could see a look of hurt flash over them. Or maybe it was the way his brows furrowed together with those soft lips in a slight pout that told him marshall was hurt. Fuck. Here he goes again with the daydreams.

Dre had a brief moment where he forgot why he was even fighting this, before he remembered that his life is already fight or die he didn’t need extra targets on his back. 

“You really didn’t feel anything did you?” 

The soft voice shocked Dre out of his thoughts as his eyes trailed back to the distressed blond. He stares at him not saying anything for exactly five heart beats that were too loud not to hear, “I felt it. But that doesn’t matter.” 

“Why. Why the fuck does it not matter.” -when had Marshall’s chair wheeled so close to his?

“Because, were going to get in a lot of shit for this. It’s not-“

“What not worth it?” Marshall’s voice accused.

A clench in his heart and Dre knew that wasn’t the case. But if he could answer it as worth it, why does he still think it’s such a bad idea. “It’s worth it.” 

“Then what the fuck are you doing?” Marshall grips his shirt just under the collar leaning in to press his lips hard on Dres. 

Oh god they were soft. Dre’s heart hammers against his chest as he deepened the kiss an arm circling around Marshall’s waist to pull him off the office chair he was currently leaning forward in, and onto his lap.

Marshall didn’t resist, letting himself be pulled to straddle Dre as they kissed till they had no air left. 

Dre was the first to pull back a lust stricken expression on his face lined with a degree of seriousness. “We do this, you don’t say shit to anybody. Between us you got that. No Proof, no Royce and I don’t even need to say no telling Paul.” 

Marshall nods silently his breath coming out shortened. 

A slight smirk played on Dres face as he lifted his thumb to run across Marshall’s cheek, “Good boy.” 

Em blows out some air in amusement, “don’t.” 

Dre chuckles thinking maybe they could work this out. Long as they keep their mouths shut that is.


	7. Interruptions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place a week or two after last chapter, enjoy :)

“Aight later- Yeah I know, I get it- Sure just come in the studio Tuesday yeah? -aight yeah. Cool okay. Bye- fuck” a small groan slipped out just as a Dial tone finally sounded in Marshall’s ear. 

A hand tangled in what little hair his boss had, while the other gripped desperately onto a loose shirt. Dre bit down harshly on a pale throat, causing a light moan to slip past the blondes lips. 

Marshall was currently sitting on Dres lap behind the formers desk. Larger hands trailed down his spine, resting to grip slim hips. 

“Babe,” Marshall said breathlessly causing a smirk to form on Dre’s lips as he pulled back. 

The amused raise of an eyebrow prompted a nervous bite on Marshall’s bottom lip. “Babe huh?” 

“If you don’t like it I can-“ Marshall started just before a finger was pressed firmly against his lips. 

“It’s fine Em,” Dre chuckled finding it adorable the way he fumbled with every minor detail when it came to him. Sure they weren’t the most normal of couples but he needs to relax. 

The movement of Marshall’s fingers being placed in a particular spot on his neck caused Dre’s attention to be drawn, following the kids motion. His hand followed, grasping Marshall’s to shift it out the way and admire the work he had done. 

Blue eyes flickered to watch Dre’s line of vision fixed on his neck. His lips parted when he caught sight of the permanent smirk etched on Dre’s face. 

“You know how good this looks on you?” 

The question was met with a small swallow as Marshall continued to stare at Dre. He decided against answering and instead leaned forward resting his head on dres chest. 

While the relationship was still fresh, he couldn’t deny the safe and warm feeling he got being this close to Dre. Hearing his heart beat under his ear brought him a comfort like no other. 

Dre, being Dre had to ruin the moment. “What are you willing to do for me kid.” 

Ems head raised off his chest, eyes mixed with confusion and uncertainty. “In what way?” He felt his chest tighten as the words left his lips. 

Light circles were now being rubbed down his back, causing Marshall to arch his back just slightly. “What way do you think?” Dre’s voice was lower now and it sent a tingling spark up Marshall’s spine. 

“I-“ they were interrupted by the thrust of a door being opened.

“Marshall! You... holy fuck” The sentence was trailed off by a dumbstruck expression. 

Time seemed to freeze as the blond in question whipped his head around, his body twisting to face his childhood friend.

Dark eyes were wide in shock and Dre knew he would have to be the one to break the silence, once again resting his hand on Marshall’s hips and squeezing lightly. “Proof. We’re trusting you. This doesn’t leave the office. Now fuck off,” His voice edging a more dangerous tone. 

Marshall’s lips parted as the hand squeezed his waist and he moved to get off Dre, “Doody you don’t have to go we can talk abou-“ 

He wasn’t able to move as the grip on him got tighter despite his struggling. Dres fingers curled around his chin forcing Marshall to look at him, “The talk can wait, I believe I was asking you a question.” 

Marshall felt his heart quicken as his boyfriend- whatever he was stared him down as if daring for him to even think about leaving.

The door made a distinct creak shut as Proof  
backed out the room. 

Marshall turns once again a desperate expression crossing his face, “Dre... but I can’t just fucking leave it.” 

A small bite of the lip from Marshall and Dre sighed. “Fine go. Talk,” he released his grip. 

Watching Marshall hurry off to face his friend stirred an increased frustration from Dres part. He’d been going slow, wanting Marshall to be comfortable. This was new to both of them after all. But when he did happen to make a suggestion he expected to go a lot better than this. 

And then there was the problem that now somebody else knew. Dre was actually surprised Marshall managed to last this long. He knows he didn’t. 

Had called Snoop just last week to practically spill his guts to him. Needed to get it all out, this thing with Marshall was different to just any regular hookup. 

Didn’t help that Snoop had found the whole ordeal pretty amusing, or the fact that he claims to have seen it coming. Now he was fucking paranoid as hell the whole world could see the small glances here and there. He never was good at keeping his eyes off Marshall. 

Rising from his chair he followed the whispering voices till he reached the next room, judgemental eyes trailing down the figures of the two friends. 

Marshall was the first to look over pausing mid sentence, “-what?” 

Dre shook his head letting out a sigh, “nothing. Just don’t spill too much okay.” 

The blondes eyebrows drew in, “he already knows, what’s the damage?” Truth is Marshall was glad to finally get a chance to share the crazy things swirling around his mind all day. 

“The damage is, I fucking know you. Once you tell one person you gotta tell everybody. Like it don’t matter no more.” 

When he caught Marshall bite his lip he knew his assumption was correct. Shit. “Tell me you didn’t,” his voice in slight disbelief. 

Marshall didn’t answer.

“It’s been 5 fucking minutes Em!” Dre groaned.

“Well.. Royce called back.. couldn’t do Tuesday and I was already talking to Proof about it so I let him in on uh, what was going on.” An innocent smile and he was lost.

“Fuck Marshall. Fine, no one else I’m fucking serious.”

Marshall walks hesitantly closer, “okay, okay. I’m sorry alright I won’t.” 

Dre have him a very doubtful look and that’s when Proof stepped in, “just wanna say I’m happy for you-“

“Proof shut up. We ain’t need no sentimental bullshit,” Marshall laughs lightly although the smile across his lips was hard to miss. Of course Deshaun was cool with it. He always was. 

Royce on the other hand had hung up. If it weren’t for Proofs reassuring words he wouldn’t be as calm as he was at this moment. One person on his side is a plus in his books. Nobody said this was going to be easy. 

And It wasn’t like Royce had straight out called him a faggot or anything like that. He could take some silence for now.. he’ll come around. Proof said so. And Proofs always right.. right? Oh no. He was way too caught up in the moment to think this through. Fuck who says he’s gonna be okay with it, proof wouldn’t fucking know-

Quickly noticing Marshall’s sudden distraught expression he placed a reassuring hand on on his shoulder, thumb running across his collarbone. “Trust me on this one. Can you do that?” 

Marshall stared at Proof desperately wanting to believe him, the caring expression Proof withheld made it very hard not to. “Okay,” Marshall voiced a soft mumble followed by a hug. 

Dre decided to take his leave by then, he had work to do anyway. Something about Marshall and Proofs relationship was settling weird with him lately. It was a stupid suspicion, but he had it none the less. A part of him missed those few months he was by Marshall’s side the most, training him to be the growing perfectionist he is today. 

A push of his office door closed as he settled in his chair too lost in thoughts to really start back into his work. For now Proofs the most important in that boys eyes. 

A smirk lifted, that sounded almost like a challenge. Gotta find the best way to get Marshall’s attention. He laughed softly at his train of thought, finally getting his attention back to the papers spread across his desk. 


End file.
